


The Morning After Valentine's Day

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Comfort Food, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hangover, Kissing, Morning After, Morning Sex, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Daisy might have had a bit too much to drink the evening before for Valentine's Day. Luckily Phil's there to take care of her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> Written for becketted who specifically wanted post-V Day hangover fluff. Hopefully this meets the request.

"Noooo," Daisy groaned in what she was vaguely aware was a piteous manner as light hit her still-closed eyes. "Go 'way."

"Should I?" Phil's voice asked from close by and she cracked her eyes a little so she could peer at him. He was standing by the bed, setting a tray down on the nightstand. A tray which, judging by the scents arising therefrom, contained food. He caught her looking as she opened her eyes properly, and smiled. "Hangover cure?" he offered.

"Oh god," she muttered, and pulled the edge of the pillow up against her face. Phil chuckled quietly, which she considered a very traitorous response. "Why're you so cheerful?" She lowered the pillow to glare feebly at him.

He shrugged. "I had a great time with you last night," he said simply. He picked up a glass from the tray and held it out to her. "Phil's Patented Hangover Cure?"

"I dunno if I can sit up," she told him. She could, of course, she was just playing up her feebleness because she knew how he'd respond. He wouldn't mind – he liked taking care of her. 

"Poor love," he said softly, setting the glass back down, then kneeling on the side of the bed, he slid his arms under hers and eased her upright. He sat beside her, facing her, leaned in to press a kiss to her brow, then raised an eyebrow. "Hangover cure?"

She sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "Yeah, okay."

"Good girl." He passed her the glass, and she accepted it, pinched her nostrils closed, which made Phil snort, then downed the contents of the glass as quickly as she could.

"I need to clean my teeth before I consume anything else," she told him as he took the glass from her again.

"Want me to carry you into the bathroom?" he teased.

"I hate you," she declared, and he smirked at her. "No, I'm serious." Her tone was emphatic, but he just grinned like the dork he was. She glared again, then eased herself out of the bed and crossed the room to their ensuite. One good thing about being the Director was no longer living on the base all the time – and even better was having an ensuite bathroom so she needed to take less than half a dozen steps to reach her toothbrush.

When she returned Phil was lounging against the pillows, legs outstretched, eating a croissant. She frowned at him. "Why aren't you suffering more?" she demanded, a little crossly.

He swallowed, then said, "Designated driver, remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Next time we'll take a cab."

He laughed softly. "So you'll have company in your hangover misery?" he teased as she climbed back onto the bed and settled beside him.

"Everyone knows misery loves company," she declared. 

"I love you," he said, as casually as if he was merely commenting on the weather. It was something she still hadn't quite gotten used to – even though they'd been together for three years now. "Whether you're drunk, sober, or hungover."

She bumped his shoulder with hers. "You mentioned food?"

"I did." He grabbed the tray off the nightstand and settled it on his lap so that she could see he'd brought a plate loaded with croissants, a bowl of oatmeal topped with both honey and fruit pieces, and two large mugs of coffee.

"God, I love you," she muttered, and grabbed the bowl of oatmeal. 

"I always knew food was the way to your heart," he teased, and she scowled at him as she ate a mouthful of oatmeal.

"Our first date involved a candy bar by the side of a pool," she observed after swallowing, and he raised his eyebrows.

"That wasn't a date."

She snorted. "Sure, Phil. I mean, you'd just White Knighted me off the Bus in Lola against all odds, and there were twinkly lights around the pool, and stars overhead. You're quite right, that wasn't a date. Silly me."

He laughed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. She swallowed another mouthful of oatmeal, then moaned a bit. 

"You always make this perfectly every time. Thank you."

He smiled, then grabbed his mug of coffee and drank some. "I made you grilled cheese," he said, as if she needed the reminder.

She snickered. "That wasn't such a great date. I mean, yeah, you made me grilled cheese – using your top secret recipe, and you ate it with me in my self-imposed exile, but not quite as good."

He shook his head. "I was so worried about you."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I know, Phil. So worried, in fact, that you got me Twizzlers for our trip to The Retreat, then sent me Little Debbie Snack cakes. Admit it, you have a thing about feeding me."

"I do," he agreed. "I've always had a thing about feeding the people I care for, but most especially you."

"That's so sweet."

They ate in a companionable silence, and by the time Daisy had eaten 3 croissants as well as her oatmeal, and drunk her mug of coffee she was feeling rather less hideous.

"How's the hangover?" Phil asked as she set her empty mug down on the tray.

"Improving rapidly," she told him. He shifted the tray from his lap onto the nightstand, and she immediately snaked her right arm around his waist, and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. The sweater he was wearing over his t-shirt was soft and felt nice against her skin. He slipped his arm around her, and after a moment she felt his prosthetic hand on her hip as he slid his hand beneath her clothes.

"I should thank you properly for taking care of me," she declared, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"What did you have in mind?" 

"Well, a kiss is a good place to start, don't you think?" She pushed him back against the pillows without waiting for a response, leaning over him and nipping at his bottom lip. He opened his mouth eagerly, and she began kissing him, quickly shifting so that she straddled his body. He moaned softly when she settled her sex over his crotch, and she smirked against his mouth as she felt his cock beginning to stiffen in response.

He wrapped his arms around her, the left across her lower back, the right below her shoulder blades, and kissed her back with enthusiasm. She rocked gently against him, and he tightened his arms around her: she could feel his arousal building through his vibrations – something that had yet to get old for her, and she leaned back a bit, then grabbed the hem of her sweater. Phil immediately said, "Let me", and at her nod, he tugged off the sweater and the t-shirt she wore beneath it, baring her upper body. 

"You're so gorgeous," he said quietly. He said it a lot, and when they were first together she'd tended to scoff a bit at his words, but she'd stopped doing that because she'd come to realise he truly meant it. Daisy had known since she was a teen that she was attractive, but Phil calling her 'gorgeous' was somehow different – perhaps it was his reverential tone.

She grabbed the hem of his sweater and he lifted his arms, like a little boy, so she tugged his clothes off, then leaned in and pressed her chest to his: her nipples were tight and aching, and she enjoyed the sensation of rubbing them against his bare skin, enjoyed the way his chest hair tickled her skin.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," she declared, then reached down and eased his cock from his pants; she smirked when his breath hitched by her ear.

"Daisy," he moaned.

"Phil." She thumbed the head of his cock and he grabbed the waistband of her sweatpants, so she lifted herself up so he could tug them down, and then she was sinking down onto him. She rocked gently once he was buried to the hilt inside her, then resumed kissing him.

"Hungover sex with you is always great," she murmured between brief nipping kisses.

He snorted. "I would hope that all sex with me is always great." 

She chuckled. "Remember that time we were smashed and tried to fuck, though? After I took over as Director."

He covered his face with his hand. "Trust you to remember that," he groaned.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away, then began mouthing kisses across his palm and wrist. "You managed to get it up, but then you couldn't get it in me because – "

"Don't!" he begged. "Please don't remind me of my humiliation." He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, his face flushed.

She leaned in and sucked on his Adam's apple, and he groaned in an entirely different way this time. "You made it up to me the next morning, though, as I recall. Went down on me for ages and gave me so many orgasms I lost count, and then you fucked me until I couldn't move."

That made him lower his gaze so he could smirk at her. Then he grabbed her hips and began to thrust. "You accused me of trying to nail you to the mattress."

She snickered. "You were."

He shook his head. "I love you, Daisy Johnson."

She shook her head in turn. "Such a romantic sap, Phil Coulson," she told him. "Good job I love you, too."

He smirked, and she began to move faster over him, enjoying the intensity of his vibrations as they built up towards his climax.

"I did enjoy myself last night," she told him, and he raised an eyebrow. "The food was good, and I really enjoyed dancing with you."

"And you enjoyed the wine and the champagne," he observed, smirking again.

"Yes, thank you, Agent Coulson." He laughed and she shook her head. "Maybe I should punish you for your cheekiness," she suggested, and his vibrations spiked hard with desire, which was enough to tip her over the edge, Phil following rapidly afterwards. 

As they cuddled together in post-orgasmic satiation she decided that this was the kind of Valentine's celebration she most enjoyed.


End file.
